Labyrinth
by Asorel
Summary: A Labyrinth, created in the shadows, winding in and out. A never ending spiral, winding around its core... HBP continuation. Quest for the Horcruxes Tale.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY, AND IT'S RATED 'M' FOR A REASON. IT IS RATED FOR VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, AND SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE. I WILL ONLY SAY THIS ONCE, THOUGH NOT ALL SCENES WILL HAVE UNSUITABLE CONTENT: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!**

**AN: Hallo all! First off, I'm dreafully sorry (begs for foregiveness) that I deleted _Harry Potter and the Atrum Angelus_, but I finally realised what I had, and have, been doing wrong, and why I'm never happy with my stories. I hope that this one will be to your liking, feel free to review, and tell me what you think; I love to know, and how am I to know what I'm doing wrong if my peers don't tell me? We can't all be our own editors, you know.**

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A boy with messy, raven hair sat in a train compartment; next to him sat a girl with bushy, mid brown hair. Across from him was a lanky boy with tomato red hair and freckles. 

Anyone looking at the children would have though that they were normal teenagers, journeying home from a boarding school on the train, but they were far from normal …

Harry Potter looked up as his bushy haired friend, Hermione Granger, nudged him in the ribs, and pointed out the window. They were coming into the station.

"C'mon, mates," said Ron, standing up and taking his trunk down from the rack above the seats. "Let's get out before the crowds do."

They all pulled their trunks down and walked out into the corridor, waiting by the old fashioned carriage door to get out onto the plat form. The train pulled to a shuddering stop, and they climbed out onto the steamy platform.

As soon as Harry was standing safely on the platform, he found himself grabbed up into a crushing embrace by Mrs. Weasley, who was waiting with several other Order members on the platform.

Mrs. Weasley released Harry after what seemed like several minutes, and turned her attention to Ron and Hermione. Harry walked over to Remus, who was standing a little apart from the others.

"Hi," said Harry, feeling suddenly tired.

"Hullo, Harry," said Remus, rubbing his face wearily; his eyes were red rimmed. "How was the train ride?"

"Same as ever," said Harry, trying not to sound like he was forcing the conversation.

Remus nodded, "Good. Listen, Harry, you can't tell us where you and Dumbledore were on the night he … he, you know, can you?"

"No, I'm sorry, Remus," said Harry, looking at Remus. "Dumbledore told me not to tell anyone at all."

"Right," said Remus, looking over to where the others were standing. "We'd better go – are your aunt and uncle coming to pick you up, or do you need a lift?"

Harry did not want an escort, "No, they'll come and pick me up."

"Are you sure? It's really no trouble. We've got a couple of ministry cars waiting."

"I'll be fine, Remus," said Harry, mustering a relatively genuine smile.  
Remus put an arm around Harry's shoulders, and together they walked through the barrier. They emerged on the other side and walked over to where the two black ministry cars stood, gleaming cheerily in the sun.

"They mock you, sir," whispered Harry, staring at the shiny cars, and the bright, cheery sun.

"What was that, Harry?" asked Remus, looking down at him questioningly.

"Nothing, Remus," said Harry quietly, "just me thinking out loud."

"Lupin, we'd better go; got a schedule to keep to!" called Moody, turning his attention on Harry and Remus.

He walked over to them, "Now, you take care of yourself, Potter, and you just owl us if there's anything you need. Got that?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry, finding himself shocked at the way his voice had suddenly changed; it was cold, and strangely broken, but somehow … older? Yes, older.

He vaguely felt Moody clap him on the shoulder. He called a faint goodbye to Remus, and walked over to sit on a bench and wait for his aunt and uncle.

He could still be seen, sitting and waiting, some three hours later. He allowed another half an hour to pass, before walking over to a taxi, and asking to be taken to Surrey.

He loaded his trunk, and Hedwig, and climbed in.

"Where was it you wan'ed to go 'gain, Gov?" asked the driver; a brawny man, with stubble and a bald head.

"Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey" said Harry.

"Right-o, Gov," said the driver, and shifted the car into gear.

They drove through the thick traffic, and exhaust smoke filled back streets. Nearly another hour had passed before they came off the slipway and onto the M3.

They sped down the motor way, through the twilight, and into the dark night.

When they arrived, it was nine-thirty in the evening. Harry pulled out all the Muggle money that Hermione, in her great foresight, had given him when they got on the train, saying he might need it. He was uneasy about accepting her money at the time, but now he was extremely grateful.

"Here Gov," said the taxi driver, handing him a twenty pound note, and some coins.

The driver them climbed out of the car, and helped him unload his trunk onto the pavement.

"Want me to 'elp you carry 'em in, Gov?" asked the driver.

"No, I'll be alright thanks, Mister … um?" Harry paused and looked at the driver.

"Harvey. Don Harvey," said the driver.

"…Mister Harvey, thank you for driving me," said Harry.

"My pleasure, Gov," said the driver, climbing back into his car and driving off.

As soon as the car was out of sight, Harry turned and looked down the street at No. 4 …

The windows were dark, but the car stood in the drive, as if the Dursleys were home.

Harry sighed; they were probably out at one of the neighbouring houses, having dinner.

With that thought in mind, Harry walked a hundred yards down the street, and up the paved path to the door…

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AN: How was it? Everybody in character? Anyway I could improve it? Let me know!

Asorel


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing except my own characters and the plot!

**THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC BLOODSHED AND SCENES WHICH MAY BE INAPROPRIATE FOR YOUNGER READERS! PROGRESS WITH CAUTION!**

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"_My pleasure, Gov," said the driver, climbing back into his car and driving off._

_As soon as the car was out of sight, Harry turned and looked down the street at No. 4 …_

_The windows were dark, but the car stood in the drive, as if the Dursleys were home._

_Harry sighed; they were probably out at one of the neighbouring houses, having dinner._

_With that thought in mind, Harry walked a hundred yards down the street and up the paved path to the door…_

Harry knocked on the door, and waited. After a few minutes, and no answer, he knocked again, this time, harder.

The door yielded, and opened. It was very unlike the Dursleys to leave their door open; they were paranoid about thievery, and always though that someone wanted to rob them.

Harry reached into his pocket, and withdrew his wand, leaving his trunk, and owl, on the doorstep; he walked into the dark hall, feeling along the right-hand wall for the light switch. His fingers brushed over it, and he flicked it on, illuminating the hall, and part of the sitting room, the door to which was open.

Harry looked carefully about him; if there was someone there, but they were under an Invisibility Cloak, he wouldn't be able to catch them with _Finite Incantatem_, as he would with a _Disillusionment Charm _or any of the various other charms for hiding a person.

Silently, Harry began to try and think of ways to find out if there _was_ anyone in the house.

He found he could think of none that wouldn't leave him open to attack as he performed them. He silently gritted his teeth, and looked skyward. Another problem was that he couldn't perform _any_ of the spells non-verbally. _You know, Snape had a point there._

With a silent curse, Harry resorted to a game of Cat and Mouse; he would lure whoever (if there was someone) was in the house into a false sense of security.

"Paranoid git, Harry," he muttered, just loud enough to be heard. "There's no one here."

He walked into the dark kitchen, and fumbled for the light switch, not realising what he would find …

Harry let out a choked gasp of horror; sprawled on the floor were his uncle Vernon, and Dudley. Blood was everywhere, and they seemed to have had holes board through their chests.

Pinned to the vinyl flooring by a silver spike, was a note. Harry bent and retrieved it, his eyes burning.

_An eye for an eye, Harry. Welcome home. _

Harry stared at the note: 'an eye for an eye'? What could that mean? It must be a riddle, but …

"'Hallo, Potter," purred a voice from behind him; he turned to see a woman with dark skin, and black hair, leering at him. A white, skeleton mask was held tightly in her clawed hand.

Harry had his wand in a flash, but she was quicker, and disarmed him instantly.

"You've got to be quicker than that, boy," she teased, twiddling his wand between her red nailed fingers.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, trying to back away into the cupboard where he knew the knives were kept.

"Isn't that obvious? I'm a Death Eater," she examined her blood coloured nails in a bored fashion.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?" asked Harry; some terrible haste to get what was coming over and done with had came over him. "Take me to Voldemort, and get it over with!"

Suddenly, her black eyes blazed, "I don't need an invitation, boy. Watch your tongue. In answer to your question, I'm waiting for my superior. He'll be back from looking for the Horse-Woman soon enough, and then you're going to our Lord, you filthy brat."

_Horse-Woman_? That meant that they hadn't found Petunia yet!

There was a crash from the hall, and tall figure entered …

The woman turned, "Did you find her, Sir?"

"Nah, she's vanished inta thin air," said the man, in a thick, Scottish accent, "bloody elusive fer a Muggle; even the Cap'n couldna' find 'er, and he 'ad tweny lookin' all over fer 'er!"

Harry wandered vaguely who the 'Captain' was … probably Voldemort.

"But sir, how can she have vanished? We saw her leave!" the woman was getting more agitated by the second. "The Dark Lord is going to be so angry!"

"There ya right, but he might appeased a wee bit by ya catchin' the lad," he looked at Harry.

"Well, I suppose, but really…" there was a 'BANG'; blood exploded from her head, and she fell on her face.

The man grabbed at his sheaved wand, and turned. There was another bang, and he too fell forwards in a pool of blood.

Harry looked towards the doorway; aunt Petunia was standing there, a revolver held firmly in her hand, and her white face set in a fury Harry had never guessed she could muster …

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AN: How was it? How could it be better? Let me know!


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